Set Yourself On Fire
by Will Write For Food
Summary: The Great War. How many relationships were torn apart in those bloody years? Family, friends, and lovers gone forever. What worth did the last conversations between these souls hold? What was said? What would be remembered? A series of oneshots.
1. Severus and Lily

(Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter! Shocking. Also don't own the Jayhawks' "I'd Run Away," nor Stars' "Set Yourself On Fire.")

**AN: **Hellloooo, everyone! Long time no post, it seems. I had a marvelously busy summer, hope you all enjoyed yours as well. This story is going to be a bit different than my usual oneshots (and the novel-length fic that's currently in progress, watch out for it!) I'm trying to write oneshots for quite a few character pairings, centering around the last conversations they ever had with one another. It will probably be Marauder-era-centric, because that's what I'm most comfortable with! Can't give any guarantees on update times- basically whenever I get to writing another chapter, I'll post it right up. I don't really know who to put in for the characters in the story description. It starts with Severus and Lily, but we won't be seeing them again after this chapter.. the truth is I plan on the story centering around many different characters from the Marauder era. I'll probably just go with James and Lily, so apologies to anyone if this first chapter isn't what you'd expect. Anyway, here it goes... I hope you enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter One: Severus and Lily**

_"__But how many ways, how many ways can I say it?" _(The Jayhawks, "I'd Run Away")

It was a strange, crisp day in late August when he heard. Strange, because even then one could feel fall on the horizon, with the brisk breeze that kicked up leaves, something about the way the stark sunlight hit the countryside.

He could tell you, even years later, exactly where it had been. His father, dependent and sickly by then, had bid him to send a letter. Darkly and swiftly he'd gone, a blemish in the daylight, into the town with the thin envelope in his hand. Just as he'd dropped the coarse, cool letter into the box, he'd heard it.

"Oh, it's going to be simply lovely!" An enthusiastic voice sounded. Turning, he'd seen the motherly-looking figure clap her hands in delight. "She's always been _so _beautiful, that Lily Evans."

At the name, there was a slight intake of breath on his part. Still standing on the corner in the sunshine, hand clutching the smooth metal of the postbox, he observed the conversation obtusely. The woman's companion, another middle-aged housewife, no doubt, gave a tut that was vaguely reminiscent of a bird.

"She's quite young." He could hear rather than see her hesitation as she checked for important onlookers. "There's been talk that she's in _trouble, _and _that's _why it's so sudden."

Before he could wrap his mind around the (obvious) meaning of the words, the first woman had responded with outrage: "Nonsense! You should have heard Anna when she talked about the boy, Martha! You'd think it was _her _who was getting married!"

"Well, that's true, I have heard that he's rather charming. A wealthy boy from London, if I'm not mistaken?"

"Yes, yes, his parents were quite well off but died years ago, the poor thing. An only child, too. Anna said that Lily's nearly all he has, except for a few boys from school that he counts as brothers. They attended that same boarding school in the North."

He was lost in a cold plunge of thought as he considered the couple being spoken of. A crush of pain swept over him as he thought of her. He could see them in memory, not from where he'd actually stood behind a pillar in the courtyard, but instead from above. He could see their happiness and their life. The twenty seconds he'd spent watching before he'd wrenched himself away turned into minutes, longer, stretching into an infinity of them laughing and twirling, caught up in each other.

Having difficulty breathing, he found himself making an unattractive, strangled noise in the back of his throat. He forced his mind back onto the women down the street.

"…and it's certain to be extraordinary! There's nothing better than a lovely, hometown wedding. We were all quite disappointed when Petunia decided to have hers so much closer to Surrey."

The other murmured her assent as his world collapsed. "No," he breathed. Suddenly, his hand was clammy against the cool postbox, and he found himself using the metal container as more of a crutch. He stumbled into the street.

"Ooh, careful, dear!" One of the women cried, but he was deaf to her warnings, and, upon realizing the identity of the darker figure, she fell silent.

As though in shock, he found his way to that playground. He collapsed more than sat on the swing, his hands clutching the chains as if for life. He was shaking and sweating, eyes closed against the raw knowledge of the situation. He sat for hours as he heard everything she'd ever said to him, saw each day he'd been with her. He wished he was deaf. He wished he was blind.

His arm ached at the spot where the traitorous mark of her enemies was scorched.

He finally stood when the sun was low in the sky. As he returned home, he picked up a local newspaper from where it sat, never retrieved, on a neighbor's lawn. Opening to the "announcements" page, his worst fear taunted him from the page.

"The community, family, and friends of the Evans family would like to congratulate Lily Evans, 19, as she weds James Potter, 19, of London. The couple met and fell in love during their schooling, and they look forward to a life together. The wedding is scheduled for this Sunday, September 2, at St. Peter and Paul's Chapel in town. Friends are welcome."

He dropped the paper to the ground and ran the short distance next door, not stopping until he was bolted inside the dilapidated, depressing house. He sank down against the door, breathing hard, with one thought consuming his mind: the thought of action, the thought that he must do something. Clutching to one suggestion of comfort, he smiled. _She'll listen to me. She must still care._

The father, in the midst of a coughing fit, called out from the bedroom. He was quite ignored, however, as his son curled in on himself in the entryway, consumed by dreams and nightmares.

OOOO

"Smile!" _Flash. _Annoyance flashed in Lily Evan's green eyes as she was temporarily blinded by the camera in her aunt's hand. All around her were women of her extended family, cooing and sighing, telling her she looked beautiful and reminiscing on their own days of romance.

_The next time I get married, I'm not putting up with any of this bloody mess, _she thought, but it was with a sense of her ironic humor, as she knew that there wouldn't be a next time. Lost in her thoughts, she found the man who was most likely dressed and pacing, a nervous wreck, in another room in the chapel. The man she was going to marry.

"James," she said now, fondly, breathing the name too quietly for any to hear. The truth was, she had no idea how she'd gotten here. Nineteen, about to be married, and in love with James Potter had never been in the plans for her future. She was terrified, she was nervous. She thought she was probably making a mistake. But she'd be damned if she was going to choose anything else.

Leaving the chattering group behind her, Lily moved to the window. She knew that several Order members were going to be in the crowd, disguised and vigilant. The events of the last few weeks necessitated a heightened security at the Evans-Potter wedding, as it became clear that the Dark Army was finished with trying to bargain, trying to get James to cross over. He'd been scratched out as a lost cause, a Blood Traitor- and one that needed to be made an example of.

She shuddered, looking out on the dazzling, manicured hillside of her hometown, somehow seeing nothing but darkness. They were heading for an undetermined length of time filled with death and sorrow, she knew. But with James, she'd be able to have some sort of escape. Her heart fluttered, and she smiled mockingly at herself for his ability to still make her swoon.

Focusing back out on the landscape, though, her heart gave a jolt as she saw a blemish in the grass. It was a man, one with the look of a starved childhood, dressed in long, billowing robes. At first, she was startled to see someone dressed in wizarding clothes at the wedding, which she and James had carefully explained would be entirely Muggle. Then her heart skipped a beat as she suddenly realized who the man was.

It would never be possible for her to forget him, but the years that had stretched since she last saw him made the recognition startling. She should have known he would come, but she'd somehow never expected it.

Stuttering, she backed away from the window. "Lily?" Her mother questioned, causing all others in the room to look up. "Lily, what's the matter?"

Eyes wide, Lily turned to face the room. She struggled for an explanation. "I- I've just realized that I'm quite nervous," she said, laughing shakily. A dozen voices immediately started up on how beautiful she was, what a handsome couple she made with James, how loving and attractive James was himself.

Moving towards the door on trembling legs, she said merely, "I think I'll step out a moment," and then was gone, kicking off her shoes behind her.

As discretely as one could be in a large, white wedding dress, she made her way across the lawn to the equally conspicuous man in the dark, black robes. He was still standing where she'd first caught sight of him, but now their eyes met as she walked barefoot through the damp grass.

Her eyes were crinkled into the distinct glare that he knew carried not frustration, merely consideration.

"Sever-"

"Why?" He choked out, unable to hold his thoughts in any longer. She took a step backwards, clearly alarmed at the emotion in his voice. Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to inhale through perfect lips. In that instant, they each knew what this conversation was to be about. The recognition flared in her eyes and he gasped, stricken. "Y-you knew! You knew all along!"

Unsure of what to say, she replied in a small voice, "I love him."

"No, Lily! _I _love _you! _You know I have! You've always known!" This raw side of him was so strikingly different from the cold, closed-off boy she'd last spoken to, years prior. She looked down, hands caught in the lace of her dress.

"Lily, _please._" He was choking, he knew. He couldn't breathe, his vision was blacking at the edges. He reached out to touch a piece of her red hair…

"Severus, no!" Her eyes, suddenly alight, lips pressed into something of a pout; her entire body was speaking to him. "You loved me when we were stupid school children. You don't know who I am, now. And I don't know _you! _How could you possibly love me?" She met his eyes.

"There are some things that can't be questioned. It's obvious to me! I'm certain, every day, I'm certain."

She sneered, but even that was delicate on her features, and he knew there was no disdain behind it. "How terribly cliché of you, Sev."

There was another period of silence, in which she became quite nervous, almost frantically so. "I'm trying my hardest," She said shakily, drawing a rattling breath through her mouth before uttering the sentence he'd heard her say so many times as he struggled for sleep each night. "You made your choice, and I've made mine. And now I'm trying my hardest to move on." She wasn't looking at him, but instead somewhere over his shoulder.

"And if," he broke off, clearing his throat before starting again. "If you could choose differently, would you?" He was staring at her with such intensity.

She smiled weakly, with closed lips. "Would you?" Her eyes flashed to his for the briefest of moments.

Without hesitation, he answered, "I would."

Lily would never admit it, but she was profoundly disturbed by his answer. He was still giving her that gentle, probing stare. "Come with me, Lily," he whispered conspiratorially. "We'll leave all this mess behind."

For a few moments, she could see it. She could see the two of them living in some foreign land, happily relearning the ways of their lives. She could see herself growing old, having children. She could picture herself, sitting out on the porch on evenings, rocking in a chair and smiling. And then, as she sat there, her husband would come and join her.

He could see her giving in. She was close enough for him to kiss her, and he started leaning in…

But with a violent shudder, she was jolted from the daydream as she realized that the husband in this fantasy was James and not Severus. "No!" She cried, looking up at him and frowning. "Sev, no! It wouldn't work."

Anger flashed red across his vision, matching her hair. "Then you're going to die! You must be stupid not to realize it, they're going to kill you and your," he swallowed hard, "_husband_ right where you stand, and only if you're lucky will they leave anything for others to remember you by!"

She said nothing, merely looked away. The bells in the chapel tower had begun to ring. After a period of great deliberation, she spoke.

"Severus, I'm turning around and going back to the chapel, now. I'm marrying James Potter." There was the most magnificent tone of determination in her voice, and as she listened to the words coming out of her mouth, she gave a small smile but wouldn't let her excitement show any more than that.

"But why?" He said again, and he sounded so small.

"Because I'm in love with him, and he makes me happy."

Again he protested, and she massaged her temples with her manicured fingers. "I could make you happy, Lily! I know I could!"

"No," she said harshly. "You couldn't, Sev. I'm sorry, but you couldn't. You've hurt too many people that I love."

She was already turning, and he was at a loss for how to stop her. She murmured something, but her back was to him and he couldn't hear. "Please," he called. "What did you say?"

She paused but made no move to face him. She spoke up, the wind carrying her voice back to him. "You hurt yourself."

She continued walking through the grass, graceful even while barefoot, as the bells serenaded her back to the church. The sunshine and the vivid colors of the day painted a picture, painted her into it, and it was so beautiful that he knew he was condemned to remember her like this. He was right in that the Dark Lord left hardly anything for physical remembrance in the rubble of the house in Godric's Hollow. But he would always have this memory of Lily Evans, so beautiful and determined and happy, walking away from him in a wedding dress, going off to love another.

* * *

**AN: **And that's that! Hope you liked it, it was quite a pleasure to write- normally my one shots are painful for me to craft. Please leave a review to let me know what you think!

-WWFF


	2. Sirius and Regulus

**Disclaimer: **All rights to their respective owners.

* * *

**Chapter Two: Sirius and Regulus**

_"Heart is pounding in his chest, reaches suddenly for his gun." _(Broken Social Scene, "Looks Just Like The Sun")

Each time Sirius caught sight of a Patronus floating through the nearest window, he was jolted by excitement. He knew the Patronus was a messenger- knew it meant a fight. There was nothing Sirius loved more than fighting.

For him, fighting was synonymous with living. He fought every day (especially in the Order, where he needed to constantly convince members that he was more than what his surname dictated.) Literal, wand-to-wand combat, however, was much more fulfilling to him, as it was all about power and energy, of which he had plenty. Each time a Patronus would trot serenely into view, he would give his mischievous grin and apparate to Headquarters.

No one fought quite like Sirius Black. Others, while in battle, were angry, were scared, wanted nothing more for it to stop. Sirius always went into combat with laughter. He would dance to and fro, eyes alight with passion and willpower, but always with laughter poised on his lips. It wasn't that he took fighting casually, he told James, or as a laughing matter. It was merely that he enjoyed it. He enjoyed seeing his enemies fall. Sirius enjoyed the moment of recognition in his combatant's eyes when he knew that he'd been beaten. Sirius enjoyed the brief hope in his enemy's eyes that maybe he would be spared, that maybe Sirius would stop before uttering that final, fatal blow. Sirius never stopped, of course. He laughed instead.

Regulus stopped. The two had seen each other from across the hall and they each knew. Like a firecracker exploding in a shoe box, they'd been drawn to each other amongst the flames. They each knew what it was to be. And they'd fought with Sirius' barking laughter between them. They were watched by all in the hall, if only fleetingly, and those who were watching at the precise moment when Sirius Black stumbled and dropped his want were certain that they were about to see one of the Order's most effective members die. The laughter echoed around the hall, bouncing off the high ceilings and out of the broken windows, and stopped. Between the two brothers it was silent. Regulus raised his wand and Sirius stood slightly crouched, breathing hoarsely through his mouth. There was an intake of breath from the younger man, and the witnesses had no doubt that it was the moment. Very suddenly instead, Regulus Black turned on his heal and spun, disapparating into emptiness.

Regulus stopped. It was the battle that kept Sirius awake for months later. It kept him awake, staring at the ceiling with his beautiful lips barely parted, because Regulus stopped. Sirius wouldn't have stopped. In the delicious alternative, had Regulus been the man crouched and breathing hoarsely through his mouth, Sirius wouldn't have stopped. He knew it without a doubt.

Regulus was dead weeks later. After their confrontation, there was a marked difference in the battles that followed. Among the shouting and mayhem of general combat, there was never any laughter.

In another world, Regulus faltered- lost his balance or concentration or had some other error of judgement- and fell at the hands of his older brother. In another world, Sirius didn't question. In another world, Sirius still laughed.

Sirius wouldn't have stopped.

* * *

**AN: **I don't know. I'm not particularly proud of it. But I've been sitting on it for a number of weeks, and I wanted to post it. Let me know what you think, yeah?

WWFF


End file.
